


Play Your Cards Right, Then You Might See Light

by bradfordswoody



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Best Friend Louis, Black & White AU, Fluff, M/M, city life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-09
Updated: 2014-10-09
Packaged: 2018-02-20 12:17:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2428391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bradfordswoody/pseuds/bradfordswoody
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Where Zayn is hurt, and doesn't understand love when it comes to Liam.</p><p>(Alternatively: where everyone's world is in black and white, until they meet the person they truly love and suddenly their world literally 'lights up')</p>
            </blockquote>





	Play Your Cards Right, Then You Might See Light

**Author's Note:**

> I saw this prompt on tumblr a while back and decided to put it to action. I'm sorry I feel like there are a lot of mistakes since this is unedited. And to clarify, everyone see's the world in black and white, so no color. Until they meet the person they truly love "soul mate", then the color returns. As kids they grow up with color, until they turn around 13 then the color disappears. But remember, you can fall out of love too. 
> 
> Thank you to my best friend, she helped to give me the conviction to actually finish my work. I have many other prompts that have been started but I haven't yet completed them. But now that the boys are on break I hope to be posting them sometime soon so keep a look out. I hope you enjoy xx

        

Zayn thinks its kind of pointless, how he spent years in school, as a young boy learning the difference between primary colors and secondary colors. No one ever mentioned that all the lessons wouldn’t mean a thing later. He remembers his art classes, the only other subject he strived in besides English. He enjoyed looking at the contrasting combinations of colors, the fascination becoming the reason behind his first tattoo. He didn’t tell his parents, but it was hard to avoid when the bold, black lettering across his collarbone peeked out from behind his shirt, the difference between that and his pale skin too great to ignore. It had been the first. He got another for his birthday the next month, and then another on his forearm after few weeks had passed. The collection of ink had grown, working towards a sleeve, and with a few more across his other shoulder, chest and even one on his back. They all meant something. Each phase of his life, marked permanently in his brain and on his body.

 

Then he had met him. The realization had hit him like a freight train that he could actually differentiate between his bleach blonde hair and the gray sidewalk. It was in passing, Zayn rushing to his lecture that morning when he spotted the blonde on the other side of the street. Just standing there, he was staring right at Zayn. He met the boy’s eyes, and he picked out the vibrant shades of blue. They were sapphire, but not quite. They were too bright, too full of energy and life, things Zayn hadn’t seen for years. It made his breathe hitch in his throat. His name was Niall, Zayn later discovered. Niall was the reason he got his first color tattoo. It was a King of Hearts playing card, splayed over his ribcage on the right side of his body. He looked at it everyday in the mirror, stretching into awkward positions, just to check on the card, to see the red coloring on his skin.

 

And suddenly things were changing. The brightness in Niall’s eyes matched the breathiness in his laugh. Zayn had never smiled like this, not at all often, never found someone so beautiful, he had never been so comfortable with wrapping his arms around someone when they went to sleep each night. But he should have known. He should have paid more attention when the color started to fade. When Niall started getting up earlier, and Zayn no longer woke up to his peaceful face but to him already dressed and heading out the door with a quick goodbye and peck on the cheek. He should have seen it coming, when he woke up one day, and the bed was already cold. The room around him, back to different shades of dull, and pointless. When he climbed out of bed and walked over to the mirror, he didn’t need to check, if the walls of his apartment going back to white were any indication, but he lifted his arm anyway. There was no contrast, just his pale skin, covered in stupid black ink.

 

Everything went back to normal. He woke up cold, no matter how much light he let into the room through the gray curtains, he tried to wrap himself in the white sheets, cocooned by his black duvet, staring at the white, empty walls. He listened to the same sounds every morning before getting up. The couple above him, arguing non stop about petty disagreements, the sound of the city bus pulling up to the stop in front of the complex, the sound of people talking in the alley behind his building, and of course, the cars. There were so many cars in this city, so many people speeding down the street every day, never stopping, honking at one another when the person in front actually drives at the speed limit, or when a pedestrian is brave enough to weave through the traffic in order to cut off a few minutes in their morning commute. Each street lined with offices, townhouses, small businesses that don’t ever last for more than a few months, so many people rushing every which way possible, it should almost give this town life. But it doesn’t. Because every person he passes is white washed, every car that almost runs him over is black, and every building with graffiti lining the sides is just a different shade of gray. Every morning is the same, just like this one.

 

He walks to work, trying not to bump into other people, flashing a curt smile back at some of the friendlier street vendors. He fixes his hair out of his eyes, since he hadn’t bothered to do it up this morning and let it fall flat across his forehead, a little fluffier since he didn’t use any product. He tugs out a cigarette, the pack of Malbaro’s that he had to save up for. He cups the cigarette and lights it, then slips the pack back into his pocket. He takes his first inhale, the smoke burning down his throat and settling in his lungs. It’s still rough, being the first of the day, but by the time he reaches the bookstore around the corner, he take his last drag, allowing the familiar warmth to permeate through his chest and settle his mind before he stubs it out on the ground with his foot and enters the shop. He greets Michael, the only other employee that works there, who spends most of his shift at the counter. Zayn’s fine with that, he’ll stack as many shelves necessary if it means he doesn’t have to talk to anyone. He heads into the back room, grabbing the box of used books to take out and lets himself get lost into that routine. Pulling each book out, organizing it alphabetically, and placing it on the shelf. The music flowing through his ear buds is the reason Zayn doesn’t hear the man next to him trying to ask a question. Zayn jumps when the man taps his shoulder, then turns to face him.

 

The first things he notices are his eyes. All Zayn can see is hot chocolate during the fall, during a time where the leaves start to change color, and everyone is walking briskly from shop to shop because it’s starting to get nippy out. He can pick out flecks of copper in them, sparkling like a lost jewel. It’s strange he’s taking the time to admire them. Soaking in the warm feeling they exude. Then it sort of hits him by surprise, and he’s frozen in place for a few seconds. The color of his eyes. 

He keeps staring at them, making sure that he’s not just imagining it. Zayn eyes the side of his head, the sandy brown hair cut shorter there compared to the top, along the line of his jaw all the way to bubblegum lips. His lips. The corners are quirked up in a shy smile. He tears his gaze away from his lips in order to pay attention to what he’s saying, plus he’s been staring for much too long to consider normal, or at least polite. He directs his gaze to the boy’s eyes, and immediately looks away in fear of saying something he might regret, and let him know how much he’s really freaking out on the inside.

“Um, hey. Uh, sorry to bother you, but um, I was looking for this book for my psychology class? Apparently it’s like, really old, and I couldn’t find any copies of it online so I thought I should come here but I- ”

 

“Did you try the library?” Zayn interrupts. He winces at how rude the question sounded, not meaning to come off so harsh. He immediately backtracks. “Sorry, didn’t mean that but, most people usually check the library on their campus first. That way they don’t have to spend money on anything.” He tries to smile at the boy, to make up for his accusations.

 

“Yeah, I thought about it. But then I thought that I’d want to like, write in it, or make little notes and you can’t do that for a library book. Well you can, you’d just get in trouble for it. Or I don’t know, just that it’s not a good thing to do. So that’s why I decided to try and buy a copy. So I came here but I couldn’t find it, so I was looking for someone to help, but the guy at the counter wasn’t there anymore and like I said I didn’t want to bother you but I just really needed some help.” The words tumble out of his mouth, his cheeks stained with a light shade of red.  Zayn chuckles, and leads him to the left side of the store when he tells him the author’s name. Zayn checks him out and wishes him a nice day. Once the brown eyed lad exits the door, he feels his shoulders slump a little, releasing a breathe of air he didn’t realize he was holding in. When he goes home at night, and lays back in his bed, staring at his white ceiling, and the black shadows cast across it, he tells himself that he didn’t spend hours hoping those brown eyes were real.

 

~~~

 

Weeks later, when he has the day off, and after he spends some time with his best mate Louis, Zayn walks into the coffee shop three blocks away from his apartment. He steps into the queue, already sure what he wants to order, and scans the rest of the room for an empty seat. When he looks at a table near the corner, next to the window, he sees him.

 

The first things Zayn remembers are his eyes. They make every drink in the coffee shop look dull. He’s reading a book, Zayn suspects it’s the one he bought a little bit ago. Zayn orders his drink, and without realizing what he’s doing, walks over to the stranger’s table.

 

“Hey,” Zayn says. The boy looks up at him, eyes wide as if Zayn had startled him, before he smiles at him.

 

“Hi,” he acknowledged with a bright grin. “Thanks for helping me out the other day. Didn’t get the chance to introduce myself though, its Liam.” Liam motions to the empty seat across from him.

 

“Zayn,” he says before sitting down. He takes a sip of his drink before he continues. “And it wasn’t really a problem. Just doing my job I suppose. How’s it going then, with the whole psychology thing?” He asks. He watches as his face lights up, smile growing brighter by the second.

 

“It’s really great, ‘s cool, like, figuring out how people think. And how their brain works. Like learning the way people perceive things and how the things around them and the people in their life affect the way they think. It’s just interesting how I get to learn all about their emotions and stuff. Kind of glad I chose this instead of going into dance,” he laughs.

 

“You were going to go into dance?” Zayn snorts, eyes a bit wide. “Great, I’d trip over the fucking floor tile if I ever had to dance. Good thing I wasn’t interested in it. Liked more of the arts if I’m honest, rather read a book instead of like, go outside to play football with the rest of them.” Zayn shrugs. He really can’t dance. The last time he had, it was at the first high school dance, and he tripped and ended up with the punchbowl on top of his head, completely mortified. To cliché to even consider funny.

 

But he realizes he probably shouldn’t have said that, he’s just spewing random shit now because he’s nervous. He doesn’t usually do this, the whole ‘talking to new people’ thing but, he can try.

 

“Is that what your studying then? English or whatever it’s called,” he asks. It’s endearing the way he asks, head ducked because he really doesn’t know and it makes Zayn chuckle.

 

“I’m not in college. Would’ve studied to be a Lit major, maybe minor in Art. I always wanted to be an English teacher. Had to drop out after my first two years though. Mom got sick and we didn’t have the money to pay for her treatments, so I said I’d come home to take care of her. And they could use the money they would have spent on my tuition to pay the hospital bill, or else they would have used my sister’s.” He looks down at his lap, biting his lip and playing with the zipper on his jacket.

 

“How many sisters do you have?” Liam smiles at him, as if trying to be reassuring.

 

“Only my little one, Safaa. She’s actually, what 17 now? Almost done with high school then she’ll be off to college just like her big bro, yeah? Maybe she’ll get to finish her’s.”

 

“What happened then, when you went home?” Liam asks with his eyebrows furrowed. He leans forward a little, waiting patiently for Zayn to answer.

 

“Um, mum kind of passed. I spent a lot of my time letting Saf cry into my shoulder when I was just on the verge of crying myself, cause I wasn’t okay at the time.” Zayn snaps his mouth shut, glancing up at Liam nervously. One look at the boys face, he can’t stop now. “I wasn’t strong enough to support us. Like, everything just hurt. It was hard, y’know? Like, I could barely take care of myself let alone look after her. So I had to make sure that my dad would take care of her when I left because sometimes, he closed up. He’s just like me when he does that, or more like I get it from him. When things got tough he didn’t talk to anybody, and that included us. I made sure he didn’t do that before I left. Because I did leave, I stayed the summer but I couldn’t live in an empty town. I ended up moving here. And instead of it being empty, it was just lifeless. But it got a little better, because then Ni came and–” He really needs to stop doing that. He really needs to fucking stop connected everything in his life to Niall, because it’s past the time where everything good is connected to blue eyes.

 

Zayn lets the silence settle over them. He’s sorry he made the conversation awkward, but he’s thankful that Liam doesn’t ask questions. His fingers itch for a smoke but instead he just sits there, letting Liam rub circles with his thumb over Zayn’s palm. He didn’t even notice Liam grab it. Then, Liam is beaming at him. His smile breathtaking, making the tightness in Zayn’s chest loosen bit by bit before he can finally breathe again.

 

“By the way,” Liam says, smile still plastered on his face. “I like the tattoo on your chest, the red lips. It’s cool.” Before Zayn can open his mouth, Liam is closing his book and standing up, heading towards the door of the café. With one last turn he waves goodbye, trying to leave with a wink (but failing because Liam ends up just blinking at him) and pushes the door open. The red lips. Liam saw red. And Zayn saw brown. Zayn watches him walk away through the window, eyebrows drawn together because he the answer could be really simple. But he chooses to not acknowledge that part of him. He clenches his fist on the table when he feels something in his hand. A piece of paper.

_Psychology: the study of the mind. Some people say that the best way to know what someone’s thinking is to talk to them about it. To know how they feel, is to finally understand them. Will you let me understand you? Let me in? –Li xx_

 

Shocked is only one of the thoughts that run through his head. He finishes up his drink and heads home. Before he gets into bed, he looks into the mirror. He sees it, the red on his skin. The lips are dark, prominent in the center of his broad shoulders. And he saw them in color. Zayn goes to sleep, of course, without saving his number in his phone, definitely not changing the name from Liam to Brown Eys ten minutes later.

 

~~~

 

“ _Um, hello?”_

_“Hi, Li. It’s um, Zayn. So I wasn’t, like, busy this afternoon and planned to watch a couple films. Did you want to come over?”_

_“Yeah, sure. I’d love to. What time should I be there?”_

_“Uh, 6? When you get here you can pick the film or whatever. I’ll text you the address.”_

_“Okay, I’ll see you later Zayn. Bye!”_

_“Bye Liam.”_

 

Five minutes until six ’o clock, Zayn’s a little nervous, if he’s being honest. Why he’s nervous, he has no idea, he just knows that his stomach is in knots and his hands are getting clammy. But he gets up to answer the door anyway, when he hears the knocks.

 

“Hey. You good Li?” Zayn asks. He looks tired, the bags under his eyes starting to form but still a radiant smile on his face. He lets the lad in and leads him to the couch.

 

“Yeah, bit tired is all. Just trying to keep up with my classes. Thanks for letting me come over though, kind needed a break.” They both decide to watch Aladdin first, considering  its Zayn’s favorite, after promising Liam that they’ll get to watch Toy Story later. They eat Chinese takeaway, straight from the container. By the end of the movie, Liam is sitting cross-legged on the couch, left side pressed against Zayn’s, trying to steal some of his spicy chicken. Zayn is sitting with one leg tucked under the other, focused on the movie while holding the box of food across his body so that Li can stop trying to steal it. When the movie is done and Zayn throws away most of the containers, Liam claims that since they’re watching Disney, he wants to watch Bambi. (Zayn pretends to not hear Liam when he whispers ‘cause it reminds me of your eyes’ under his breath.) And by the end of that movie Liam also claims he doesn’t have tears lining his eyes.

 

Zayn used to watch this with his mom, when he was younger, actually just finishing his years of high school but still, he was younger. Back then it was black and white, but it wasn’t because of the TV. When he went on movie dates with Ni – again with Niall – he saw them in color. He made sure to watch all the Marvel movies that came out that year. After him, he just stopped watching movies. There wasn’t a point because they weren’t the same. It sucks, watching a movie by your self. It’s kind of pathetic really, trying to enjoy something when all you feel is numb.

 

The last movie they watch is Harry Potter, Zayn’s request. Halfway through the Sorcerer’s Stone, Liam is trying to muffle his yawns into his hand. Zayn pauses the movie.

 

“It’s been a long night actually. Did you want to head home?” Zayn asks, adjusting on the couch so that he can lean back and Liam rests his head on Zayn’s shoulder. He fits there, Zayn notices. Perfectly aligned with the crook of his neck. When he looks down, Liam’s staring back up at him with a soft smile. The brightness of his eyes toned down, like stars just starting to peek out behind the clouds. It’s really beautiful. Liam’s really beautiful.

“You don’t talk much. Do you?” Liam says, eyebrow lifted with the question. Zayn shakes his head, biting down a smile. The way Liam looks at him, it hurts. There’s amazement in his eyes, a type of newfound curiosity mixed with wonder. No one looks at Zayn like that. Only _he_ ever looked at Zayn like that, and it hurts because now, he doesn’t. Know he won’t ever. Zayn dealt with it, but that didn’t mean he was okay. He deflates a bit, the light airy feeling in his chest searing his lungs too close to his heart.

 

“Alright. I won’t make you talk, but I’ll get going because it is getting late. I’ll see later then. Call me soon yeah?”  Zayn nods, flashing a small smile at Liam, still stuck in his own head, and holds out his hand to help the other lad off the couch and walks him to the door, standing there to hold it open. Liam looks back, placing his hand on Zayn’s shoulder. His smirk makes the glint in his eyes stand out, distracting Zayn from when he leans in and suddenly Liam’s lips are pressed against his. He doesn’t react at first, simply reveling in the feeling of softness, only chapped in the slightest, still trying to overcome the shock. He closes his eyes after a few seconds, and kisses Liam back, his hand coming to rest on his cheek when he applies more pressure. They kiss like that, feeling like hours, yet only seconds as sparks ignite in every cell in his body. When he pulls away and opens his eyes, his head is swimming. He watches Liam walk away with another small wave, and another wink (see: blink).

 

Zayn collapses against the door once it’s shut, lips still tingling. He doesn’t know what’s happening to him. He’s so confused, and he doesn’t know what to do. The world is going on around him but it’s moving too fast, Zayn can’t seem to catch up. And he still doesn’t understand, after weeks, why there’s a twisting in his gut every time he thinks about brown eyes.

 

~~~

 

Zayn doesn’t call him. It’s been a while since Zayn has actually seen or talked to Liam and it hurts even more than that day he woke up to the sharp cold of an empty apartment. He calls Louis instead, and asks him to come over. When he hears a knock on the door he immediately opens it and points his mate to his bedroom.

 

“This better be important. I had a date planned with El that I cancelled because you sounded to ready break on the phone.” Louis immediately points out. His face goes from pinched to something softer when he looks at his best friend, practically brother now, sitting across from him on the bed. “What happened Zee?” Louis asks gentler, eyes coaxing a response from the younger boy. Zayn hangs his head, lip trembling and quickly wiping away a tear cascading down his cheek. He’s only allowing one to fall. When he speaks, he tries to control the tremble in his voice.

 

“He came over, Liam I mean, and we were watching movies. And um, when he left, he kissed me. And I started freaking out. Because why is this happening now Louis? I don’t understand why suddenly he walks into my life and everything has to change! I was doing fine and now one look and I get so confused. He makes me so confused! Discombobulated! That’s the word. He literally makes me feel discombobulated and I have no idea what to do with that.” Zayn breathes out, hands grasping the sheets tightly. Louis grabs Zayn’s chin so that he can look at the boy directly.

 

“Zee, don’t pull that ‘I was supposed to be an English teacher and I use big words like _discombobulated_ even when I’m having a breakdown’ shit with me okay? When the color comes back, it means you’re in love. You know that. It’s the same thing that happened with Niall. Except, Liam isn’t Niall. So you need to forget that the blonde little devil, no matter how bubbly he was cause I actually liked the kid, ever happened. He was the past, now is the present. Niall never made you feel the way that Liam does, am I right?” Louis asks, shooting Zayn a stern look.

 

“You were in love Zee. Then you weren’t because he left you, and I thought we went over this but you know that wasn’t your fault okay? But now, life is giving you a chance at a better love. That’s something that Niall was never meant to give you. So why aren’t you taking it?”

 

~~~

 

He’s at work the next time he sees Liam. It wasn’t like he was purposefully searching for brown eyes (even though they’re constantly on his mind nowadays), but from his spot on the beanbag on the floor, it’s easy to separate him from the crowd. But by the time he spots the boy, he’s already walking towards Zayn and sitting in the empty beanbag beside him.

 

“Hi,” he greets him uncertainly.

 

“I love you.”

 

His eyes widen, mouth silently dropping open with a silent gasp, the only thing louder than the rapid beat of his heart is the sound of cars he can still hear coming from outside.

 

“And it’s not because I see you in color, it’s not because I’m ‘meant’ to. I love you because I fell in love with you, all right? I fell in love with your tattoos because I want to memorize every single one of them. I fell in love with your passion, for your family and for English; even if I think Harry Potter is the stupidest series alive I’m prepared to watch every single movie with you, which I’ll make up to you since I practically fell asleep last time. I fell in love with the way my body fit perfectly next to yours. I fell hard when you laughed, and I realized that it wasn’t something you do often. But you should, because it’s dazzling, mesmerizing, enthralling, and captivating; all these words that I had to look up in a thesaurus just trying to impress you, because everything about you is breathtakingly beautiful. I want to continue to do that for as long as I love you. Will you let me in?” He asks, eyes pleading but so hopeful. He nods, pulling Liam in close, wrapping his arms tightly around his broad shoulders and pressing a gentle kiss to his temple.

 

“Does this mean we get to have coffee together? Again?” Liam nods, letting Zayn pull him up before he laces their fingers together and walk out the door. The sun outside is bright, illuminating the clear blue sky, reflecting off of the red, blue, even some weird lime colored car, and shining down on the multitudes of people walking down the sidewalks, each person ranging from pale to midnight. He lets the sun warm his skin as he subconsciously rubs over the right side of his shirt, directly over the King of Hearts, inked on his ribcage. 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I love Niall, I didn't want to make him the bad guy but, things had to be done. And also, I'm sure Liam loves Harry Potter, this is fiction. Let me know what you think? Thanks lovelies xx


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